


Houdini

by acanaceous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Sirius Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:25:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acanaceous/pseuds/acanaceous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He first thinks of escaping Azkaban two weeks before he pulls it off, his first coherent thought in thirteen years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Houdini

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to mikeywayunicornhugs for telling me my ending sucked and I needed to do it again.

The dog has become something of a fixture in Azkaban. It is large and black and likely could be intimidating in its likeness to the Grim, but its fur is bedraggled and all it ever does in curl up in the corner of its cell, as far away from the dementors as it can manage, keening piteously.

The other prisoners aren’t entirely sure what a dog could have done to land itself in prison, but they’re too absorbed in their own misery to wonder.

_I did not betray you!_ the dog howls, but James and Lily cannot hear him. _I DID NOT!_

A dementor approaches and the dog curls even farther into itself. The hooded being surveys the rows of iron cells with the manner of a king inspecting his domain, and glides to a stop in front of the dog’s cell.

_“I DIDN’T DO IT!” Sirius bellows, struggling against the restraining arms of the Aurors. “YOU’VE GOT TO BELIEVE ME—I DIDN’T—I WOULD NEVER BETRAY THEM!”_

_They tell him of course he did, who else could it be? He’s a Black, a dark wizard! He’ll be going to Azkaban, the Auror informs him in a lofty tone. Serves you right, death eater scum._

The dog’s ears lay flat against its head as it eyes the dementor’s cloth-swathed arm with no shortage of apprehension. The creature reaches for him, long bony fingers just brushing his unkempt pelt, but cannot grasp anything more than a few lone strands of fur with which to drag him closer.

At length, the dementor withdraws and continues to move down the row.

The dog does not know how long he has been here—centuries, maybe eons, he thinks. He can hardly remember a time outside of Azkaban, so very long ago… but it may have been years, may have been seconds for all he knows.

He does not care, because all that matters is _James is dead and it’s_ his _fault_. _It’s all his fault_. If only he’d never suggested making Peter the secret keeper instead, James and Lily would still be alive, and Harry—

How is he doing? Is he all right? Who took him in? Is he safe?

And then— _what if Peter goes after him?_

What if Peter finds Harry and kills him in the name of the Dark Lord? _I’ve got to escape,_ the big canine thinks. _I’ve got to escape and find Harry before Peter does and oh god please don’t let him be dead already—_!

The dog pushes his head up off the ground as it contemplates doing the impossible—escaping from the impenetrable fortress of Azkaban.

_Well_ , Padfoot thinks, eyes regaining a fraction of the spark they had lost, _I’ve always wanted to be Houdini._


End file.
